better near to you
by loved in shades of wrong
Summary: He's starting to think that the last three weeks of pretending things are the same isn't the right strategy. What happens in Russia definitely doesn't stay in Russia. Post 2x06
1. one

**It's basically law by now that I mention _quisinart4_ in my Olicity fics, but I also want to say thank you so very much for being there for me during the Google incident, as you've dubbed it. My stupidity knows no limits, but I'm glad I met you and I'm lucky to have you as a friend.**

_one_

Felicity gets it - she does. After everything he's been through, after everyone he's loved and lost, Oliver has a right to be guarded and careful. But it doesn't mean she likes it. The fear of losing shouldn't stop someone from trying, from moving on. What's that saying about love being the most important thing?

- But it's not like she _loves_ him or anything like that. It's just… how is it possible to be with someone and not care about them eventually? She doesn't understand his logic as he continues to see Isabel outside of the office, and she runs the line he told her over and over in her head until she disheartenedly concludes that Oliver Queen doesn't like her like that. He's just a nice guy who finds it difficult to reject the poor IT girl who developed a crush on him, like every other girl.

She acknowledges that he's been flirting with her the past year, but it was harmless. Friendly, even. They both knew that. So she wouldn't accuse him of leading her on, per se. However, a girl can't control how her heart beats faster or her filter between brain and mouth completely takes a vacation around Oliver. Add him constantly saving her life, winking at her, randomly touching her just a second longer than necessary, and all those nights spent together… no girl can resist the pull.

Feeling unwanted sucks really bad, and she'd never admit it to anyone, but she finds comfort in Taylor Swift's songs. Who knew you could relate to something _so much_?

She's pretty sure the worst feeling wasn't finding out that Oliver had slept with Isabel (although that did suck real hard), but the fact that he chose someone he claims he doesn't care about over someone that he _does_. She's not implying that that someone is her, but it would make more sense and hurt much less if he had feelings for Isabel and that's why he did what he did. Because then she'd know for sure. Then she'd know that he isn't the man everyone else makes him out to be. But who was she kidding, anyway? Someone like Oliver would never like someone like her. Just look at his rap sheet, his history. Facts don't lie. That's one thing she can count on.

Watching the two day in and out, sitting close to each other and laughing and smiling like Russia was no big deal, it bugs her. It feels like salt to a wound. And she feels terrible that she's upset with Oliver for that. Because if Oliver wants to be with Isabel because she makes him happy or because she satisfied some need that apparently someone who he cares about can't, who is she to stand in the way? Who is she to tell him he shouldn't date her? Sure, as a friend she has some say, but it's rude to flat out tell him he shouldn't be with her just because she doesn't like the woman.

Felicity is a professional and she is reasonable. She does not let her feelings get in the way of her job, her work and her friendship. She's mature and she's more evolved than some jealous needy girl who finds out that her love is unrequited. (Once again, she's not in love with Oliver.) So she gets out of bed and makes herself socially presentable before going to work in the morning. And then at night she sits herself dutifully behind her computers and helps Oliver and Digg save the world one bad guy at a time. She does that every day for a whole week (and she can't believe she's made it this long without dying from the emotional exhaustion.) with a curt tension between her and Oliver.

She doesn't like the awkwardness between them. She wants to move on. Desperately so, because she misses her friend. She misses joking around with him and even embarrassing herself by saying the wrong thing. She misses telling him about her day and complaining to him about her landlord's broken promise of fixing her leaky sink.

A knock on her door diverts her attention from her research on Taylor Swift lyrics, and she flies to peek into her peephole, frowning at who she sees.

"Hey," he greets.

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

Diggle holds up a plastic bag. "You girls are always crying over _The Notebook_ and I want to see what all the fuss is about. And I brought ice cream… because I felt like some Cherry Garcia."

"My favourite," she smiles slightly as she steps aside to let him in.

* * *

Felicity walks in and sits herself at her desk slowly. It's weird how the room feels a little less welcoming. She used to be excited to go to work, before Oliver "promoted" her to his assistant, before Oliver and Isabel and Russia, before Oliver came up to her and told her he couldn't be with the person he cared about. Why is it that everything revolves around Oliver?

The mollifying whirr of her beloved desktop computer consoles her sympathetically as she waits for the main screen to load.

"Hey!" Oh yeah. It also doesn't help when he pretends that everything's fine.

Wincing, she squints up at Oliver. "Not so loud."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just… ice cream hangover."

"Sorry," he apologises in a quieter voice. "Listen, remember how you told me I needed to be more involved in the company's employees? Well, I took your advice and this new guy from the Applied Science department will be up shortly. I want to officially welcome him to the company and see how his first week has been."

"Oh, okay."

"His name's Bart or something."

"Sure," she replies, rubbing her temple.

"Thanks."

Felicity searches her company email for any pressing issues Oliver needs to look into today when she receives a text.

_You'll be fine._

Smiling, she texts back to Diggle, thanking him dearly for last night and for fixing her sink.

"Hi."

Startled, Felicity drops her phone and it falls with a loud bang onto her desk. "Oh- God. You scared me," she breathes before all air spills from her open mouth when her eyes land on the man, and her heart races for a completely different reason.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean to. Wow, you're really pretty." His eyes widen before he stammers, "I mean, hello. I'm Barry Allen."

She studies him, blond hair and striking blue eyes. An almost identical Oliver, but leaner and looks younger. Maybe around her age. "Who?"

"Wow. I feel so welcomed," he jokes, rubbing the back of his neck. She blinks at him blankly, smiling politely. "The new guy in Applied Sciences?"

"Oh. _Oh!_ Gosh, I'm so sorry. Of course you are. Oliv- I mean, Mr. Queen's been waiting for you." She shoots up from her chair and makes her way to Oliver's door. When she reaches for the handle, her hand accidentally clasps his as he beats her to it. She feels an unusual scar under her palm and becomes so enamoured with it that his quiet voice barely filters through.

"Your hand's cold."

"Uh, yeah. I'm, uh. Cold," she says lamely. She'd slap her forehead if it wouldn't make her look more strange. Then she remembers she's still holding his hand and lets go almost comically, her hands flying up like she's been caught. She doesn't know why she feels a burning itch on the side of her face, but she wants to push her cold hands against her cheek to ease the prickling sensation.

"Let me buy you a coffee? Warm those hands right up."

She smiles. "Sure. But don't you have an interview right now?"

"Oh," he laughs, his ears turning red. "Right."

She giggles along with him. "Later?" she asks.

"Later," he promises. He smiles a second longer before opening the door. "Hello, Mr. Queen."

She watches him shake Oliver's hand and they both take a seat. When she tears her eyes away long enough to catch Oliver's through the glass, he has a slight crease between his brows as he watches her intently.

* * *

**I know that the actor for Barry has been revealed and looks nothing like Stephen, but I want to change that to highlight something for Oliver in the next chapter.**


	2. two

**Thanks to quisinart4 for the reassurances, enthusiasm and beta-ing.**

**I think the worst thing about this site is that I can't reply to guest reviews (especially on one shots).**

**To the four other guests and people who alerted and/or favourited: ****_Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far._**

**To the guest who left a nasty review: ****_I don't think it's fair that you're so quick to write something off that's barely began. This fic doesn't fit under a love triangle scenario, IMO. And though the concept may be unoriginal, they're realistic with so many paths to take it, so I wouldn't say they're predictable (who they end up with might be, but that's most likely why you're here in the first place). But you can do/think as you please because no one is forcing you to watch the show or read this. Thank you for your thoughts, but I don't appreciate the way you expressed it._**

_two_

You know that sinking feeling in your stomach after you realise you made the wrong decision? That's how Oliver's feeling. On top of the headache from going back and forth on whether it is the wrong decision in the first place. He tries to convince himself it was the right move telling Felicity he can't be with someone he truly cares about, but every time he sees her, he wonders what flavour her lipstick is, what her hair smells like, if she likes blueberry pancakes or waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.

That sinking feeling only amplifies when he sees her with Allen from Applied Sciences for the seventh time since he first came up to his office. He supposes they're just friends, but with the way he leans into her pushes the friend line a little too dangerously for his liking.

He had so badly wanted to get things back to the way they were before Russia that he hoped pretending everything was fine will do exactly that. (It didn't.) He's never realised how much he looks forward to talking with Felicity, how much he counts on her word fumblings to brighten his day, shed light on a dark situation until all that was left of her is reservation and tight smiles.

He had hoped that what he told her after Russia is enough, for now at least. Losing Tommy is still a wound he needs to lick better. Watching someone die in front of you is difficult. Watching your best friend; someone you grew up with, someone you stole legos with from Thea when she wasn't looking, someone you trusted enough to look after your first love… Watching the life from your best friend's eyes dim while there's nothing you can do about it is another world of pain completely. He can't be too close to anyone, let alone be romantically involved with someone, in his line of work. It's too much to risk with too much heartbreak that follows.

From day one he knew Felicity would be someone of great importance in his life, and that belief only grew with time. Oliver had never been challenged when he asks people to do something. It caught him off guard when Felicity questioned the objects he brought to her. (Granted, they were very suspicious.) He knew then that she wasn't like any other girl. Felicity is someone who believes the good in people until they give her reason not to. She's someone who doesn't discriminate by social status, or race, or intelligence; she treats everyone with equal respect - the same way she wants to be treated. It's in this way that she's different from everyone he knows. For that, he has a special place in his life carved out for her to remind him to be the same. He makes room for her as the source of his only light and conscience during the darkness.

He's in his office bored out of his mind when he finds himself curious about what she's doing at her desk, constantly flicking his gaze in her direction. He's more than mildly interested with what's on her computer screen that has her so engrossed and a bowl full of emotions. Her facial features shift quickly and frequently. When she laughs lightly, a smile stretches across his lips; when she pouts, his head tilts to get a better angle of her lips; when she rolls her eyes and looks put out, he itches to walk over there and say something to hear her laugh, see her smile, make her happy. He's just about to do exactly that and suggest an early lunch when Barry struts in and says something that makes her laugh, before she grins brightly at him, looking happier than the week after Russia.

The first time he met Barry Allen, the younger man seemed strangely familiar. As he studied him, the physical similarities between the two struck him, but the feeling of accomplishment quickly faded and the itching sensation on his brain heightened. When Allen's ears turned red and he started stuttering an apology, rewording his sentence so it didn't sound suggestive, Oliver's heart stopped.

Not only does he look like a younger version of himself, but he shares Felicity's mannerisms and quirk. His company record showed a similar line of history with hers. Education, interests, social status, age - as the list goes on Oliver feels the rational side of the brain being swallowed by anxiety of losing Felicity. (Which he'll later comprehend is completely ridiculous because he never had her to begin with.)

He's not proud of what he's about to admit, but he follows them out to the cafe two buildings down. It's only when they're seated on a couch with Felicity's lips moving fast as her hands fly around (looking more animated and happy than he's seen her in a week) that he realises how much of a creep he's being.

"Where's Felicity?" Digg inquires half an hour later before digging into his sandwich.

He glances at him from his computer. "With Barry."

"You say that like he touched your precious crossbow."

"I don't trust him."

"Seems like a pretty decent guy to me. And I trust Felicity's judgement."

"I knew she had a crush on me," he admits, looking down at his untouched club sandwich. "But I didn't think it was anything more than that."

"Oliver," Digg warns, his tone dangerous.

"She's my friend. I miss her. She used to tell me about her hard days and what she's feeling. Most of the time, though, her face is so expressive that I can tell when she's mad or excited. I have enough secrets to last me two lifetimes. I don't want anymore, much less from her."

"She's my friend too," he reminds him. "You're sacrificing your own happiness to potentially save her life. It's noble, Oliver, and I'm on your side for that. She has another chance to be happy with someone else, please respect that."

"But what if-"

"Oliver, you can't do this," he interrupts harshly. "You tell her that you don't want to be with someone you care about, and then rub it in her face about how much you care for her but can't be with her? And you certainly can't tell her she shouldn't be with Barry because - what? He's not good enough? You're jealous? You'll be sending mixed signals and stringing her along. I won't let you hurt her again."

He regards him for a moment, the words coming in one ear and out the other. "Did she tell you something?"

The man avoids his gaze. "We talked last week."

Sitting forward in his seat, Oliver pushes his food away, ignoring his spiking heart rate. "About what? What did she say?"

"That's between me and Felicity. Drop it." The colour of Digg's voice stops Oliver from continuing the line of questioning, but it burns in his throat. He pokes at his sandwich.

His words echo and shatters the monster that had consumed his logical side. "You're right. I promise I won't do anything." He swallows down the burn.

* * *

Digg knocks on his door. "Ready?"

"Just a sec." He quickly closes the police file before shutting down his computer.

(Okay, so he was looking up Barry Allen's police history - he's picked up a couple of things watching Felicity. He was just making sure Felicity isn't hanging around a criminal. (_The guy's clean - not even one _little_ speeding ticket_.))

Heels clicking through the office floor bounces around in his ears, and Oliver's heart beats faster at the thought of Felicity. _She said she'd meet them at the Arrow's base. Did she forget something?_ His eyes sweep her desk through the glass and frowns when he doesn't see her favourite orange coffee mug in its usual place.

"Oliver."

His frown deepens when it's not her voice that calls his name.

Isabel passes Diggle without a glance in acknowledgement to him; her laser-sharp eyes trained solely on him. "I'm glad I caught you before you left."

"Ms. Rochev," he addresses politely. The first week after Russia, they'd met up once or twice after work, but he immediately put an end to it when she hinted that she wants more after a night of scotch. It didn't help that it was the same day he saw Felicity and Barry walking out of the building, smiling bashfully at each other. Isabel's been relentless in spending time with him since then, asking him if he's busy, if he wants to go for a bite, if he wants coffee because Felicity can grab them for them both. She'd joke during meetings and he'd smirk courteously before he'd look over helplessly at Felicity so she'd give him a mock stern look before feigning falling asleep, like they always do - only she wouldn't be paying any attention to him. When Isabel calls her in for a coffee run, she doesn't make a face at him when the woman turns her back, instead she'd ask him if he'd like a cup. He doesn't hesitate to decline every time. (Even though he needs one to keep awake during those lifeless meetings.)

"Are you busy tonight?" she asks, a certain look in her eye.

He twists his mouth wryly. "Actually, yes."

Her head tilts slightly, her thin eyebrow raising. "With what?"

"Work." That's all he gives as he tips his head at her and heads for the door. "Oh." He stops in his tracks and turns back to her. "Can you turn the lights off when you leave? Thanks."

* * *

"Hey," Felicity calls out from her place in front of her computers. "Hayes' gone dark. I can't find anything."

"It's fine," Oliver replies. "We'll be waiting. It's the twenty-first century - we'll get him and he'll wonder if that pack of cigarettes was worth it."

"I don't think he smokes," she guesses, eyes glued to her monitor.

"Good. It's bad for his lungs," Digg adds dryly, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder as he heads to the training mat. "We might as well get some training in tonight."

After they've all changed out of their work clothes and into more comfortable ones, Oliver quickly takes his place in front of Felicity, who's already jumping on her toes, ready for the workout.

"Hey," Oliver breathes some time later. "What happened to your mug?"

"Hm?" she murmurs, throwing a left hook and narrowly striking his jaw as he dodges in the last second.

"On your desk?"

"Oh. Barry accidentally dropped it." She drops her arms and straightens her stance as her face shifts to a pondering expression. "Come to think of it, he still hasn't gotten me a new one," she declares, tone accusing.

His mouth twitches, but rolls them together to keep from smiling. _He may not be guilty of illicit activities, but-_

"Less talking, more hitting, Felicity," Digg chimes.

"Sorry." She pulls herself quickly in the correct posture and smoothly dodges an uppercut he throws her way.

"When did he drop it?" he questions, taking in her quick jab and blocking a quick and powerful roundhouse kick just in time.

She drops her stance again and huffs at Digg. "Can I change punching buddies? Oliver's distracting me."

He waits eagerly for her to stammer and fall into a spiel correcting herself, but it doesn't come. Instead, he's nudged aside and spends the rest of the night on the sidelines watching Felicity and Digg laugh and train without him.

He's starting to think that the last three weeks of pretending things are the same isn't the right strategy. What happens in Russia definitely _doesn't_ stay in Russia.


	3. three

**A big thank you to quisinart4 for helping with that vital scene.**

**Appreciation to the guests who reviewed and the silent readers.**

**To Tammy: _jealous!Oliver coming right up ;)_**

**To Andy:_ Digg's a good guy who knows how to handle his two best friends appropriately :) I wasn't too sure I had captured Isabel correctly, so thank you for saying that. Fun fact: your favourite line was basically a last minute edition._**

_three_

Oliver's been acting really strange this week. During a meeting yesterday morning, he was fiddling in his seat, tapping his pen against his empty pad, rocking back on his chair and generating that grating squeaking noise. She would have shot him an annoyed look if he wasn't looking anywhere but at her. On Tuesday afternoon, he and Diggle were in his office having lunch like they normally do when she came in and joined them. Their conversation stopped immediately, and it took her the time from the door to her seat next to Diggle until she broke the heavy silence with a suspicious, "What's up?". Oliver had stammered something about his club sandwich being dry. He was eating a club sandwich.

During the nights they train, he'd only practice with Diggle, and when she'd step onto the mat after Diggle moves off to grab his water bottle, Oliver would say he wants to use the salmon ladder or he needs a break as well. (The second excuse would be fine if he was breaking a sweat at all.) When her phone beeped with a funny text from Barry and she read it out loud to them, he had stated that no phones were allowed on down in the Arrowcave while sharpening his arrows a little too aggressively. Two nights later, Diggle takes a call from Lyla while they were cleaning Arrow's equipment. Oliver didn't say a word.

She wonders if he's mad at her. But then she snorts internally because he's been avoiding her so much recently that she hasn't had a chance to do or say much that would make him mad. Maybe it's that time of the month for him. Or whatever the guy equivalent of that is.

* * *

"Tell me I rocked your world last night."

She's one hundred percent sure her face is just as red as Barry's ears.

"I-I mean," he stumbles. "I surprised you with my skills." His eyes fall shut as he groans.

"Your cooking was delicious," she interjects, rescuing him from further embarrassing both her and himself.

"Thank you." He scratches his cheek before reaching for his apple and cherry strudel.

They avoid each other's general direction for a moment before Felicity starts laughing, and not long after Barry joins her.

The cheerful ringing of the bell above the cafe door joins them in their melodious harmony as another hungry customer is captivated by the atmosphere of the cafe.

Her eyes catch a familiar pair of blue eyes and she waves him over, a little too enthusiastically, she thinks, and deflates in embarrassment when his lips twitch in a slight smile. He hesitates for a moment before drawing closer.

"Hello, Mr. Queen," Barry greets cheerfully.

"Barry," Oliver replies curtly, and she moves her bag so he can take the seat next to her. She narrows her eyes at him slightly, sending happy thoughts his way telepathically so he'll be nice.

"So Felicity here tells me you two are friends."

"Mhm."

Barry shoots her an amused look, not at all as disturbed by his behaviour as she is. "Oliver- Can I call you Oliver?"

Oliver's lips curl in a closed-mouth smile. "Mr. Queen is fine."

Felicity's head whips around to shoot him a disapproving glance before smoothing over his rude behaviour. "Mr. Queen is weary of meeting new people; it takes him a while to warm up to them."

"Ah," Barry nods. "Here's an ice breaker: do you have any favourite books, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver glances at her with a frown on his lips and shrugs. "_The Velveteen Rabbit_ held my interest in elementary school."

"Good book," he agrees. "I think my first favourite book was when I studied _To Kill a Mockingbird_ during high school."

She catches Oliver rolling his eyes from the corner of her eye and nudges his foot with hers under the table.

"I love that book!" she chirps in. "Definitely one of my favourites."

Barry shrugs. "Now that I'm older, it's been bumped down on my list. It didn't explore more of the African American characters."

Her jaw drops, insulted. "It's from a child's point of view," she argues incredulously.

"That doesn't matter. Harper Lee-"

"How do you- Ugh! How do you always have the most infuriating views on literature?"

"Why do you always have the most boring and safe opinions?" he shoots back.

"They are not-" Her head rears back when he shushes her with his pointer finger.

He digs into his pocket to pull out his vibrating phone. "I have to get back to work. It's nice to see you again, Mr. Queen." Barry stands up and holds out his arms toward her expectantly.

Bewildered, Felicity rises to her feet and wraps an arm around him. "What are you doing," she mumbles into his shoulder.

"You'll see," he whispers back. "Just thank me later. And don't hit me, but…" he trails off, before pressing a sound kiss to her cheek. "I'll call you later." He winks, a devious smile on his face.

She floats back into her seat in stunned silence and just watches him leave the cafe before blinking back to Oliver. Awkwardness is injected into the quiet that's suffocating between the two. She'd know because she's made a lot of awkward silences fall upon her companions.

"Oliver-"

"Felicity-"

They both break off and then look at each other, smiles uneasy.

He motions for her to speak first.

"I- um, I miss you."

He turns to face forward again, his knee brushing with hers along the way. She watches his profile as he looks down at his hands and takes a deep breath, his whole upper body heaving. The corner of his mouth twitches before he looks back at her. "I miss you too."

It's her turn to look away, and she fiddles with the unused napkin in front of her to unsuccessfully hide her embarrassingly big beam. She feels a familiar burning sensation on the side of her head and reaches up to scratch it.

"You've been spending most of your time with Barry lately." She detects a bitterness in his tone that hauls her gaze back to him.

"We had one date, but when I found out he didn't ship Ross and Rachel, I ended it," she attempts to joke." He doesn't crack a smile. "We just work better as friends." _He's not you._

"Can I come over later? To… fix your sink."

"Oh. Um, don't you have any plans? It's date night. Oliver Queen has many a women lining up for his attention."

"I'm not seeing anyone," he supplies.

"Cool. I mean, it's not cool that you're seeing anyone like I don't want you to- But it's not like I don't want to see you lonely- I mean… One, two, three…"

It's the first time she's seen a genuine smile from him in a while, and she's tempted to continue counting just to see if his smile will grow and linger just a little longer.

* * *

"What was that?" Felicity demands.

"What was what?" Barry's confused voice oozes through her phone's speakers.

Her free hand jumps to land on her hip as she stares out into her living room from her kitchenette. "Today at the coffee shop."

"Oh." Then he laughs. "How did it go?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." She gathers her bowl of popcorn and can of soda, carefully tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder before balancing her snacks in both hands as she makes her way to her couch.

"Did he say anything?"

"About what?" Now it's Felicity's turn to be confused.

He sighs loudly. "How he _loves_ you. Duh."

"After you left, I told him that I missed him as my friend." She picks some lint off her sweatpants.

"Ooh. Ouch," he winces.

"Shut up. Plus he doesn't even feel _that_ way about me, trust me."

He mumbles something too slurred for her to tell what.

She pulls a face. "What?"

"There are a lot of 'what's in this conversation," he muses.

Her phone beeps and she quickly checks the caller ID. "That's Oliver. I have to go."

"He's calling to tell you he doesn't want to be just friends."

"Goodbye," she states with finality, rolling her eyes to herself as she accepts the call. "Hello?"

"I need you. "

"I'm there."

After weeks of strain between her and Oliver, everything finally seems to be back to normal. She can honestly say that she's mostly content with that as she races out the door, her heart pumping to his words that echo mercilessly in her mind, a beat sounding strangely like _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

* * *

Monday morning, Felicity's settled in front of her desk humming a tune in her head until she stops dead in her tracks when she spots something unfamiliar peeking behind her computer screen. For a second, she panics that it's a bomb and that someone somehow found out she's involved with the Arrow. Upon a closer inspection, she finds an adorable green frog grinning back at her on a coffee mug.

She slowly reaches for the mug with an unsure glance around her desk. She spies a note on the opposite side and twists her head around to read it.

_Enjoy._

_- O_

She smiles.

* * *

**Thoughts? Any favourite lines maybe?**


	4. four

**Thank you to quisinart4 for picking up on the typos, listening to me rant and fuss and be self-conscious, and finally for your honest thoughts and suggestions.**

**This is the last chapter for this little journey (which I deliberately waited until today to post). Welp, it's been fun exploring their minds post 2x06. I hope you all enjoyed reading it.**

_four_

He thought that avoiding Felicity would somehow counteract his growing feelings for her and make him see sense that being with him wouldn't be good for her. It's almost like building an anti-Felicity dam and blocking out the water - the water being his emotions for her. And it worked. Or at least it did until he saw her and Barry at the same cafe two blocks down. Seeing them together was like breaking the dam, and the onslaught of all those piled up feelings and missing her just came crashing back tenfold.

His heartbeat had slowed with the way she thought she was a little too enthusiastic with her wave, judging by her embarrassed slump, a pretty rose tinted on her cheeks. He thought it was enchanting, and he had to smile because he did miss her. More than he wants to.

A month after Russia, he's glad that things are finally back to the way they were. Mostly. Barry's still here and something about the guy just irks him, and Felicity is still spending a lot of time with him outside of work. He's happy that she's enjoying herself with people other than him and Digg, but he kind of wishes she has girl friends she spends her free time with.

After they agreed to open up communication channels between them again, it was difficult at first due to the lingering awkwardness from weeks of strain. But when Felicity began eating with him and Digg in his office again, the teasing and banters (and embarrassed countdowns on Felicity's part) between the three came naturally. Normalcy was par for the course from then on.

* * *

"Oliver, you need to calm down."

"Did you not hear me? She always answers her phone. _Always_," he stresses, ignoring the incessant whispers in the back of his mind. "Felicity's in trouble."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_."

"Then you need to _calm down_. You won't be doing her any good if you're emotional; you could jeopardise her safety."

He feels his breathing become heavier as adrenaline pumps through his veins with nowhere to drain it. He's tempted to punch the closest thing just to feel something, but he doesn't think Felicity will appreciate him breaking her monitors. _If she's alive to admonish him about it._ His fists clench and the pain offers some release. "I'm calm," he heaves between clenched teeth.

"Let's try tracking her phone first." Digg turns her computer on and starts typing, but he's moving too slow so Oliver shoves him aside and takes over.

His fingers slam a little too roughly on the keys as he activates one of the chips she put into each of their phones. "It says she's at Big Belly Burger for almost four hours now." He pushes off the table and stalks to the door leading up to Verdant, throwing Digg a crossbow before grabbing the Oneida Kestrel Compound bow and his quiver on his way out. "Let's go."

Felicity isn't inside or in the area surrounding Big Belly Burger, and Oliver can feel his eye beginning to twitch as the whispering in his head grows louder.

"Oliver," Digg calls, picking something up in front of the fast food chain's door. It's her phone.

It crosses his mind that it's possible the criminals they've started tracking down could have noticed someone looking into them. Felicity's always careful to cover her "virtual tracks," as she calls it, but she's been… _distracted_ by Barry. (The heaviness upon his heart vanished after she told him that they are just friends, but he still doesn't trust the guy.) "What has she been working on recently?" He hates that he doesn't know much about her recently, but at least they can both count on Digg.

"She mentioned a lead on Billy Hayes she was working on at her apartment last night."

This time, Digg stalks off to the car first, but Oliver's hot on his heels.

* * *

He had called her half an hour ago, needing to know where she had placed a file he needed to sign to enable the purchase of new raw materials. When she didn't answer the first time, he texted her. Then dialed her number again. He was already making his way to his car before he got her voice message for the second time. (_"Hey, it's Felicity. I'm obviously not with my phone right now - which if you know me, is strange. So leave a message… Or don't, whatever."_) Each time he called her and she didn't pick up, the needle of the speedometer jumped up a number on his race to the Arrow's base where he knew Digg would be.

"We can't go through the lobby, the security guy's a real prick," Oliver says gruffly.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Digg frown at him skeptically. "Then how do you suppose we get into her apartment?"

"We scale the building."

"Now's not the time to joke."

"Not joking."

"Fuck."

* * *

He crawls through the window she had left open a crack to let in the cool city breeze and finds himself on the floor of her bedroom, all the while listening for any signs of life as Digg climbs in after him.

His eyes sweep through the darkness, absorbing in her little trinkets on her vanity, a beautiful painting on her wall above her unmade bed, and framed pictures on her nightstand. He spots her tablet on the desk in the corner of the room and steps over scattered clothing to reach for it.

Digg comes back in from searching the rest of her apartment and shakes his head as he flicks on the lamp by her bedside. A dim, warm light floods the room, giving life and colour not at all different from the personality and clothing of the person residing here.

As he waits impatiently for the tablet to turn on, one of the framed pictures catches his eye. It's of the three pulling their scariest Arrow faces at the camera from her computer monitor after a successful mission. Her sweet face is pinched tightly, her glasses on their way to sliding off her nose, the blues of her eyes hiding behind her squint, and lips scrunched into a tiny bow. She looks more adorable than scary. He thinks that's what scares him most. She's incapable of looking fierce and that makes her susceptible to the creeps who want to take advantage of her. But he knows better. He knows that under that sweet exterior, there's a tough and intelligent woman who is willing to fight back when pushed. He's experienced her wrath himself once or twice.

Her tablet brightens from the corner of his eye and he tears his gaze away from the picture. "What's her password?"

Digg shrugs, pulling out her laptop from under her bed. "I don't know, but she wouldn't use personal details."

"Well that narrows it down to about a billion and one combinations."

"This is completely ridiculous. How are we supposed to find her if-"

"Shh."

Digg snorts, affronted. "Did you just shus-"

"_Shh_. Did you hear that?"

From the front of the apartment a door's lock slides and clicks, the sound ringing in Oliver's ears and drowning out the roaring from the back of his mind. Blackness encompasses them as Digg switches the lights off and they both dive to hide behind different furnitures.

The pulse in his ears is so loud he almost doesn't hear the familiar muffled laugh before the door bangs open. His heart jumps into his throat, and it's only Felicity's absentminded, "Oops," that manages to push it back down in his chest. He hears Digg sigh on the other side of the room, and they move from their hiding spaces just as the light to the bedroom flashes on and:

"_Ahhh_!"

"Felicity, it's us!" Digg announces quickly, his hands up in surrender.

She slaps one hand to her forehead and the other to her chest, heaving deep breaths as she leans forward slightly. "Oh dear _god_," she wheezes. Her eyes clench shut before her posture straightens so fast he's worried she's thrown out her back. "What are you two doing in my apartment! No, wait - _how_ did you get in! We're close, but this is just a _little_ too creepy, guys!"

"I was calling your phone like crazy an hour and a half ago," Oliver remarks hotly, the whispers thundering back when she turns wide eyes to him.

"We were worried someone had snatched you," Digg explains calmly.

"My phone? I didn't hear…" she trails off as she digs around in her bag for the offending item. "Oh. I could have sworn I put it in my bag on my way out of Big Belly Burger…"

Digg pulls her phone out of his coat pocket and her eyes light up in joy.

"Oh yay, you found it!" His defenses begin to lower at seeing her grin. "I must have dropped it somewhere after Barry hit me."

"He _hit_ you," Oliver repeats, balling his fists so tight the blunt ends of his fingernails bites into his palm. He takes a step toward her with an arm outstretched to check for any sign of injury on her person before she waves him off.

"Not like that. It was an accident."

He's about to press her into telling him _how_ exactly Allen "accidentally" hit her when an unknown voice shouts her name. He and Digg move quickly; Oliver notches an arrow as Digg picks up the crossbow and both leap to Felicity's side.

The front door bangs as a male voice yells out again, "Felicity! It's Gill. Are you okay? I heard you scream."

"That's my neighbour," she explains, taking a step forward. Digg grabs her arm and holds her back, Oliver tightens his grip on the bow.

"Are you sure?" Digg whispers.

"_Yes_," she returns, exasperated.

"Felicity?" Gill hollers, knocking on the door again.

"I'm fine," she yells back, shrugging Digg off as she goes to appease this Gill guy, explaining to him that she just saw a spider, but it's all under control now.

Oliver closes his eyes, his shoulders growing slack after what feels like hours of tension stomping across one muscle to another. He drops the arrow back into his quiver and falls into her desk chair, scrubbing his face with his hands. His arms flex restlessly as he yearns to wrap her up in them. It almost kills him that he's not allowed to just do that and not let go.

* * *

Lyla calls and Felicity has to reassure Digg one more time with a hand on his arm that yes, she is safe, and yes, she will be more careful with her phone from now on.

He mutters something too low for Oliver to hear, but it doesn't really pique his interest until Felicity rolls her eyes and shoves him out the door, Digg laughing all the while.

"Are you going to stay a while longer?" she asks, clearing the coffee table. "Because I really need to take a shower."

He takes the empty soda cans from her and urges her away with a nod of his head. "I'll wait for you."

As she runs off into her bedroom, closing the door on her way in, Oliver busies himself emptying the scraps into her trashcan before situating himself back on her couch, rubbing his eyes. The past two hours, he couldn't keep his eyes off her as she paced around the apartment, fussing over him and Digg. She apologised countless times for her messy apartment and that she didn't have any "manly beer" in her fridge for them despite the two reassuring her they didn't want anything.

He watched her like a hawk, afraid that if for one second he looked away he wouldn't be able to find her again. It was irrational, but after a whole hour of worrying about her safety; her life, his heart constricted when he'd think of all the time he's wasted. Whether if it was avoiding her because he was afraid of feeling something for her, or making the wrong decisions over and over in choosing the right girl, or sleeping with… The point is, he doesn't want to live life being afraid of losing someone important who he's never had in the first place. He wants to know what it means to love Felicity. He wants to know how it feels to wake up and see her face first thing in the morning. To fall asleep cuddled on the couch with film credits rolling in the background. To hold her hand and take walks to the park just because. To fight over the sink when brushing their teeth before deciding to share. To kiss her lips every night before pulling her close to his side and closing his eyes. To hear her tell him how much she loves him for the rest of his life…

He's startled when Felicity falls down on to the chair adjacent to him. "I'm really sorry I worried you guys."

He opens his mouth to respond, but becomes distracted by her hair, spilling over her shoulders as she runs a hand through her shiny locks. He bets they're as unnaturally soft as the colour. And smell unique like her sense of humour, sharp like her wit, or maybe sweet like her personality. He uses the excuse of a loose strand of hair tangled in her earrings to touch it. She's wearing one of her more intricate pairs today that she most likely forgot to take off before her shower. His fingers slide along the silk-like strand. Soft and smooth. She looks down shyly as he tucks it behind her ear.

"I'm just happy you're safe," he says softly, a voice he's just now aware he reserves only for her. The corner of her eyes dip and her look grows soft, a certain warmth in her gaze creating a chill that runs pleasantly down his spine. He doesn't know if it's because the look she gives him melts his heart and soothes his tone of voice, or if he softens his voice because he unconsciously yearns to see the look. He doesn't care. Nudging her cheek with a finger, he whispers, "Hey. Look at me."

When she does, he takes a moment to assess her heartbreakingly innocent face. He feels a small smile pull at his mouth when she bites her lip, her gaze flickering down his face before they return to his eyes. He inches down and unhurriedly captures her lips in a soft kiss. He isn't sure anymore where she stands about her feelings for him, but nothing feels better than when she starts kissing him back.

His mind is fuzzy and he can't comprehend any thought, but he's able to recognise that she's too far away from him, so he falls between her legs on his knees as her soft lips continue to caress his smoothly, gliding against his slowly before sipping his top lip. His tongue slips out to lick her bottom lip, tasting cherry. The sound from the back of her throat urges him to kiss her harder. When his hands slide into her hair, she places her hands on his shoulders and uses her hold to push him away. His lips cling desperately on to hers until his mouth is tingling from the ghost of her lips.

"Oliver," she breathes, "what about-"

"I love you." The commotion in his mind halts and it's like he can see everything clearly for the first time in four hours. Her fingers clutch at his sweater, her breathing heavy, her eyes an unfamiliar, but beautiful nonetheless, shade of blue. His fingers are tangled in her hair and the faint scent of peaches and something else exquisite drowns his senses. It's sharp and sweet and unique, but most of all, it's Felicity.

Her mouth hangs open as her words die on her lips. He bites down on his tongue to stop himself from leaning forward to kiss her again, but his head gravitates toward her anyway. He settles for caressing the soft skin of her cheeks with his thumb, his forehead resting against hers.

"That kept running through my head since the moment I thought you were missing. And then that ache I felt in my chest at the thought that you'd never know… I don't want to feel that way. These past few weeks I've been keeping a secret from you and from myself. But I don't want any secrets between us. Especially about this. I love you and I don't want to spend the rest of our days with you not knowing that."

"I can't…" Her sentence fades as she shakes her head. His hands drop and his heart follows. His brain forces him to breathe and it comes out harsh as he tries to fight against it. He's about to move away from her when her hands rush to hold onto his. "I love you too," she exhales shakily.

He looks up at her sharply. "You do?"

"Of course I do." She laughs on a breath before she draws him closer and collides into his lips so suddenly he nearly falls back. Her arms slide around his neck and he grips her waist as he steadies them, pulling her into him. He wonders if she can feel how powerfully his heart is dancing. Then he decides he doesn't care when she bites his lip, evoking a groan from him.

* * *

Her thumb caresses a scar on his shoulder as they lie across the couch with her safely tucked between the back of the couch and him. He's been studying her face for the past few minutes, discovering tiny freckles and new specks in her eyes, revelations possible from the intimate proximity he previously lacked. When he's satisfied he's explored her face entirely, he moves down to her neck and comes across a faint scar on her collarbone. The blemish triggers the memory of Felicity stating so offhandedly that Barry had assaulted her. His breathing picks up as he studies her more closely for any sign of bruising or cuts, his hands carefully running over the arm of her long sleeve t-shirt.

Her thumb stops moving along his shoulder as she picks up on his change in demeanour. "What are you doing?" she asks, stilling his hands with her own.

"Where did Barry hit you? I swear to god I will-"

Her sudden laugh catches him off guard and temporarily diverts his attention. Her nose scrunches slightly as her warm breath splashes against his chin.

He shakes his head. "Felicity, it's not funny. I _knew_ there was something wrong with-"

"Oliver," she utters appeasingly. "He was trying to show me he could do the running man."

Frowning, he shakes his head again. "How did he get you?"

"He can't dance - _at all_ - so his moves were over-exaggerated and his elbow rammed into my arm as I was putting my phone away."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I moved with the impact. Just like you taught me."

He smiles slightly.

"You don't always have to worry about me, Oliver. I can take care of myself." She tilts her head back to flash a sweet grin at him before kissing the end of his chin.

"Can I stay the night?" He adds quickly, "I'll stay on the couch. I just…" He needs her to be close to him so his mind and body can catch up with the fact that she's safe and sound. He grips her hip, feeling her peck his chin again.

She nods, mussing her hair slightly as the movement rubs the side of her head against his bicep. "Sure."

His mind runs through the night again. "What's your password?" he asks suddenly.

"For what?"

"For your tablet." He had felt overwhelmingly frustrated as his mind unsuccessfully attempted to get into her clever head. "What happens if you're not here and we need something?"

She looks uncertain, fiddling with his collar.

His head moves the necessary inches to rub his nose against hers. "Don't you trust me?"

"I do!" she assures immediately, holding onto the side of his neck tighter. "I just…" She sighs through her nose. "Okay, fine. Are you ready?"

He waits, unsure what she means. "Um. Yes."

"03LG14TO01COH."

He stares at her blankly before his face scrunches into a frown. "Is that a pattern or something?"

She laughs quietly, a glint in her eye. "There's no pattern."

"How am I supposed to remember _that_?"

He stays up half the night trying to recite her password from memory, and for the other half he watches as her eyes grow heavy and she slowly drifts off to sleep. He promises himself he'll hold her just a while longer before he carries her off to bed.

* * *

The next morning, he finds himself on the couch with Felicity still wrapped around him. He smiles, ignoring the kink in his neck, and presses a kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes again. As she unconsciously snuggles closer, he tightens his grip on her. He's sure when she wakes up she'll be stumbling over her words, and he'll look on amused as she paces and overanalyses what happens next. But for now, Oliver's content just listening to her even breathing and incoherent mumbling. He's happy just feeling her warmth, her skin, _her_.

* * *

**Virtual cookies to whoever can figure out the code to Felicity's password ;)**

**Final thoughts? Please?**


End file.
